


Helpless

by Drake



Series: You, the Runner [2]
Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: 2nd Person, F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi, POV Second Person, s4m22 spoilers, s4m23 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5324891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drake/pseuds/Drake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're on the wrong side of the wall, and everything you've ever held in pours out.</p><p>Unrequited Sam/Five 2nd person</p><p>3rd person here, if that's more your thing >> http://archiveofourown.org/works/5324669</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helpless

**Author's Note:**

> Ace!Five/Sam has been my ship since the beginning and season 4 has wounded me many times. I love Sam/Maxine/Paula, don't get me wrong, but my inner Five would burn the world for Sam, and I'm under the impression that you shelve your feelings to keep him happy, and not get in the way. Five's like that, giving up everything to keep others happy and safe.
> 
> Sometimes it's hard to be heroic and stoic and not say anything. This is one of those times.

One minute you were straining to hold the security door up. The next, Sam had slipped past you, and the door had slammed shut, at risk of taking your arm if you hadn't pulled it back fast enough. You frantically looked for another way to open it - _you_ were the one who was supposed to be in there, supposed to throw yourself into danger. _Not_ Sam. _Not Sam._

The next, you were racing to the east wing, looking for the room he was in. When you found him, staring out the window, you're desperate to find a way to pry the bars off of the window. Sam's quip about not having time to start a skeletal diet almost makes you shriek in frustration. The calm, quiet, heroic Five is gone. You're only calm in the face of your own danger. Not in the face of the one thing that was important to you being stuck in a _school full of zombies._ And with a zombie over his shoulder that _looked like you_ and keeps moaning 'Greenshoot.'

 _'Five, you have to take my daughter.'_ The words are hazy. You're in what could only be called denial - you flatly refuse the thought that Sam would hand off his daughter to you and not try to get out. Regardless, despite how much you wanted it not to be true, there was a baby being handed to you a moment later. You take the baby. Cradle it in one arm. Grab Sam's hand with the other before he can pull it back. He looks startled, looking over his shoulder for a moment, realizing that zombie-Five was looking confused in the middle of the room, probably wondering where the baby went.

"Five, you have to go. They're going to break in soon. I don't want...Please be gone by then."

" _Sam..._ " you start, the word choking out. You squeeze Sam's hand tighter, unable to let go. You try to memorize how it feels. The soft calluses that were so different from your own, those made rough by smashing zombie heads and not from the communications shack controls.

"Five, _get out of here._ " He starts to pull his hand away, looking over his shoulder again to make sure zombie-Five wasn't moving. You don't let him go. You can't. The one thing you cannot do.

You decide that you should instead say something. Something you'd been meaning to say, but kept pushing off, until Maxine was pregnant, and then it was too late. You'd put it away, telling yourself that you would be content if he was happy and safe. But this was too much. You couldn't leave him without saying anything. It felt a lot like throwing yourself into a grinder, and far too much like saying goodbye. But you had to.

"Sam, I...I'll take your daughter home. I promise. Just...I have to say something."

" _Quick,_ Five," he responds, looking at you strangely. You never interrupted missions, never delayed.

"I...I love you, Sam. I always have. Since the beginning." It took everything you had to start the words, sentences you'd locked away to never speak. It took effort to dig them out.

"Wha-" Sam stared at you, his hand slack in yours.

"You're the only thing that's kept me going. I would have...I would've given up long ago if it wasn't for you. That first day, probably, but also that one night. And countless times after. I couldn't have done any of those things I've done without you. I need _you_. You have to...you _have_ to come back. _Please_."

"Five...I..." Sam hesitates, his voice wavering as it only does when he sent you straight into the face of hell.

"I know." Here you were, holding Sam and Maxine and Paula's baby in one hand. Not yours, never yours. And here you were, holding Sam's hand like a lifeline in the other. Both sides couldn't reconcile. They didn't need to. You just needed him to know. Couldn't live with yourself if you never said anything. "You have Maxine, Paula, and your daughter. I never...I was content. As long as you were happy and safe, I didn't need anything else. But I...I need you to come back."

Sam stares at you like you were the zombie-Five, and the real Five was over his shoulder, drooling 'Greenshoot'. You wished you were, so you could keep him safe. You never asked for anything. Not extra food, not new shoes, not another sports bra (you collected enough that it didn't matter, but regardless). You did your best to not need anything beyond what you were given, even as your headset wore away to the plastic rubbing against your ear. You suppose you took to heart the first order you got from Abel (other than 'Run') which was 'everyone here pulls their weight.' Regardless. Runner Five never asked for anything. And here you were, asking Sam for something he might not be able to give. It was no wonder he looked at you like you'd replaced yourself with a zombie.

"You need to go," Sam said, looking away and swallowing thickly. Clearly resigned.

" _Please_." Your voice broke, vision blurry with tears. Sam's attention immediately refocuses to your pain, despite not necessarily wanting to.  You'd done so much for Abel, and here he was, unable to do anything for you. Except lie.

"Okay."

You freeze.

"I'll see you back at Abel, okay, Five?" Sam's voice is even. "Take care of my daughter until then."

You squeeze his hand one last time, nod, and turn away. He was right, after all. You did need to go. The wire-jawed zombies had found you again, and were still deadly. In the back of your head, you knew he was lying. You try to convince yourself he was telling the truth.

\---

Not five minutes later, when you hear his agonized screams, his cries of _'It hurts!_ ' before all transmission cut, you break. Carrying the baby, heedless of who is with you, what is around you, or who is listening, you wail.

"Come back. _Comebackcomebackcomeback!_ "

\---

Sam, you had discovered, was the one thing you could not live without.

After you return to Abel, Owen at your side, baby in your arms, tears streaming down your face, you hand the girl off to Maxine. And promptly run off to the farthest, darkest corner of Abel you could find. There, you sit in the dirt, behind a bush, and cover your mouth to hide the sound of your sobbing. Your headset lies around her neck, but you ignore any crackle of sound that comes from it.

Distantly, you hear Jodie shouting for you.

You do not respond.

\---

You could not hide forever. You need to eat, as much as you don't want to.

No one talks to you, and you don't talk to anyone. You're taken off the roster for active missions, though all of the non-critical ones were suspended for the moment anyway. Abel was recovering from the bombs, from the zombie attack, and from Sam's death.

No one was really talking, anyway.

\---

You do not want to take the next mission. You also were not good at denying mission orders.

You were glad you did, when you open a dumpster and find a cold, wet Sam curled up in it. You start crying. Again.

"Runner Five?! Get back!"

His distinctively not-zombieifed, not-raspy, not-coughing voice does the exact opposite. You want to dive into that dumpster and hug the life out of him. He flinches away from you, curled around himself, wincing in pain. You drag him out of the dumpster, even as he tries to struggle away from you, clearly not wanting to infect you. You look him up and down once, confirming he was still _Sam_ , and wrap your arms around him hard enough to bruise.

" _Five_!" He squeaks in alarm.

"Yell at me later," you respond. He sighs, and relaxing slightly in your arms.

Nothing else matters. He's alive.


End file.
